Mrs Norris
by YesIEatQuiche
Summary: Argus Filch is thoroughly depressed due to his demeaning life as a squib amongst some of the brightest wizards of the century. Thankfully Dumbledore, as always, has a plan. Join Filch on a journey to a land where men wear cravats and ladies are called Miss.


**A/N: I decided that after a year of metaphorically gathering dust in the fanfiction file of my computer, it was time to post this. **

**Disclaimer: I am neither J.K. Rowling nor the esteemed Miss Jane Austen**

Mrs. Norris

"_Name_ …_James Potter and Sirius Black._ _Crime_…"

"How insulting Padfoot, I'd have thought by now we'd have moved on to bigger and better things…perhaps a 'mild transgression'…"

"Or even a 'partial misdemeanor'…right Prongs?"

"…_SIN!_ _Apprehended using an illegal hex upon Bertram Aubrey…_"

"Notice how small a word he used Padfoot?" James whispered to his partner in crime.

"Yeah, bet they don't teach spelling in Kwikspell," Sirius replied a little louder. "Not that they seem to teach much of spells anyway."

By this time Argus Filch was furious; his face was a putrid reddish color. But he ignored the jibe – for now. If he could just finish fast enough, maybe he could run off and convince Dumbledore to let him use the beautiful chains, which he had polished earlier that morning.

"…Bertram Aubrey_…_" Filch muttered, retrieving his train of thought. He dipped his quill into the ink again.

"What a git!"

"Yeah, practically begged us to jinx him!"

"Hey Filch, that was some pretty advanced magic – though you may not have realized it – the least you could do is add some description. You know, for posterity."

" _Aubrey's head twice normal size_…"

"Which again was pretty hard to do…"

"The git's head was so inflated already…"

"SHUT UP!" Filch screamed. He had had it with these two. James Potter and Sirius Black, the delinquent duo, would pay dearly. "STAY HERE," he added, for good measure. He was going to talk to Dumbledore – immediately.

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Filch, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Dumbledore glanced down, over the rims of his half moon spectacles, giving Filch an eerie feeling of being x-rayed. Dumbledore, upon comprehending his anger, added, "Has Peeves been causing you trouble again?"

"No…not…that…" Filch panted, entirely out of breath. He had sprinted up to the seventh floor to get approval for the punishment quicker. "Those…two…again."

"I have not the pleasure of understanding you. Please indulge me with a few more syllables, my good caretaker."

Filch regained his composure. "Potter and Black. They cursed Bertram Aubrey. Used illegal hex."

"Ah, yes, Madam Pomfrey was so kind as to inform me of this transgression. It was quite mild, considering what might have happened. You look confused Argus. They were learning this hex in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It is not illegal in the least. I can see how you might think that, given the circumstances, but everything is quite all right. Our dear Bertram is fine. Plus I understand there was some provocation…A double detention will do."

"DETENTION?" Filch had lost it. "Look old man, I did not climb up this castle to request a detention slip! Those two are most definitely not repentant! A NIGHT HANGING FROM THEIR ANKLES MIGHT MAKE THEM!"

"Must we have this argument again Argus? I cannot condone that kind of abusive punishment on my students, no matter the crime."

"We need to take action! They won't respect us if we don't. Don't you get it, THIS CALLS FOR STERNER DISCIPLINE!"

"No, Argus, there is no use discussing it. But what has happened to you?"

Filch deliberated remaining silent, but the words broke free of their own accord. "They know, they always know," Filch wailed, breaking down.

"Are you referring to your being a squib?"

"Shhh! Not so loud. Their ears are always lurking. But you cannot understand Dumbledore. I'm sick and tired of being surrounded by magic every day of my miserable life. I can't take it anymore."

"I am sorry to hear that. But if you are thoroughly sure –"

"I am…yes."

"Then it is relatively simple."

It took a while for these words to dawn on Filch.

"What?"

"You must leave."

"But where do I go? This is my home."

"It can be arranged."

"Now see here Dumbledore, I can't just go live with muggles when I know the kids here will be laughing at me. Whispering behind their backs. I'll never have any peace."

"Then the way forward is clear," Dumbledore said with a tone of finality. He then opened the top drawer in his desk and pulled out a curious necklace. At the end of its long gold chain was a sparkling hour glass. "Turn it as many times at you want, just keep count so you can return if you wish. I should mention that this one is set to decades, not hours. And where you are going, it will not matter if you are seen or not. Goodbye, Argus, I hope you find your happiness."

Filch grabbed the time turner from Dumbledore's outstretched hands greedily. This was the escape he had been searching for. Now it was in his grasp. He turned the hour glass once, twice, sixteen times. Dumbledore's office had disappeared. Filch vaguely wandered if this was what it felt like to Disapparate.

* * *

Dumbledore stepped into Filch's office to find James and Sirius pilfering through the poor man's cabinets. He cleared his throat and had the momentary pleasure of seeing the two pranksters jump back in surprise.

"I trust that the two of you will refrain from using human specimens to practice spells in the future." The headmaster's eyes twinkled as he spoke, slightly diminishing his stern demeanor. "You will serve a double detention; report to my office tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," James and Sirius said in unison, the former looking the more repentant.

"Off you go then. Pip pip!"

James Potter and Sirius shuffled out of the dingy office, though not for the last time. Dumbledore picked up Filch's unfinished slip of paper and wrote '_double detention_' in his sloping hand, after which he filed in the cabinet properly.

* * *

Filch could see shapes forming out of the darkness. It had been a while since he had seen things clearly. Dumbledore's office seemed a good deal away. Suddenly, Filch was thrust into the world again. The force of the ground made his knees buckle, and he toppled into some shrubbery. He felt nauseous and hoped he would not be sick.

Getting up Filch took stock of his surroundings. He was in a clearing of some sort, next to a dirt road. The sun shone through the trees and felt hot on his back for he was still wearing his moth ball of a cloak. It seemed it was summer here.

A noise broke Filch out of his reverie – a sound of hooves mixed with voices. It seemed a carriage – yes _a carriage_ – was quickly approaching his clearing. Somehow this carriage seemed different from the carriages at Hogwarts. For one thing, it was being pulled by real horses and the carriage itself was much more ornate. As it came into view Filch noticed something else: an absurd man sitting upon the carriage. He was wearing britches and stockings and – worst of all – a _cravat_.

Everything went black as Filch's surprised face came in contact with the springy grass of the clearing. The last thing he heard was a man's voice exclaiming, "Good God Fanny! did you see that man?"

**A/N: Should I continue it? Please share your thoughts; they are most welcomed. (Though before I do a certain friend needs to return my ****Mansfield Park****. You know who you are.)**

**Also, can anyone tell which book this Bertram Aubrey thing comes up in? Let's see who gets in first. **

**Oh – and I am pretty confident I got the years on the time turner right **


End file.
